Is that not spycraft 101 since… forever?

This is Lower Decks-style version of Pale Moonlight:

Vreenak: “Where did you get these super secret plans?”

Sisko: “They just sent me a subspace message.”

There once was a prankster named Horace,
who thought the stage play was quite borious.
He conspired to seat,
those whom’s heads were shaved neat,
and reflected a swear off their foreheads.

Lord Bradley Bottomshit kindly asks that you not disparage his family’s name any further.

That last picture registers to me as child abuse.

Especially the gay ones.

Is that you, Mr. Limpet?

“I CAN live with it.”

It’s better than Bashir’s answer to end the war.

The statement was a take out order.

My cheese wasn’t Gouda ‘nough?

Fascinate in the sense that she’ll spend the next five minutes confused as to why you gave her cheese.

Need a banana for scale.

Ferangi hissing on the viewscreen, Picard looks into the camera

“I think they’re trying to communicate!”

Harumph here

GroupTrax

I stand corrected. (Allegedly.)

Two apps, OneNote.

It’s right up there with Tony Blair David Cameron fucking a pig.

There no proof, but… it seems possible.

Check the area for second-story windows.